


Unending

by nekokoban



Category: Mononoke-hime | Princess Mononoke
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:48:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekokoban/pseuds/nekokoban
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In real life, there are no happy endings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unending

_"And so it was there that the hero Ashitaka and the forest-maiden parted ways, for though their regard was strong, he had his duties to the human world, and she, hers to spirits who had raised her. For the rest of his life Ashitaka lived in a fine house at the edge of the village, and on the nights of the full moon, he could be seen walking the borders of the forest alongside a beautiful woman, always close, never touching, but always with a content smile."_

In the finest house of the entire village of Tatara-Ba lived an old man. The people of the village only knew him as Grandfather, for he had been there as long as any of them could remember, and he had been old even before then. He kept mostly to himself, but he was not unfriendly; when children came up to him in the marketplace, he would give them candies and listen very closely to their stories. To their elders he was polite and smiling, and if none of them knew his name either, they did not think it terribly strange. He was simply "Grandfather" to the village, who tended a small vegetable garden and made no demands of anyone. Even the restless young men of Tatara-Ba, who always wanted more and better for themselves, did not begrudge his fine house. Grandfather had always been in Tatara-Ba, and he had always lived in that house.

Also in the village there lived a girl whose name was San, whose eyes were fire-bright and whose hair was the same soft color as a fawn's pelt. Though she was not especially beautiful, she was well-regarded as a woman who would make a good and strong wife someday. She worked in the iron-smelting plant with her mother and her older sister, and it was said that no one worked harder or more diligently than her. Of everyone in the village, she was the one whom Grandfather favored above all others; when she went to him with stories, he always gave her an extra piece of candy, and something in his lined face seemed content just to see her face.

"Grandfather," she said one day, when she was sixteen and considered finally an adult in the eyes of her village, "why do you live alone? Everyone tells you their stories, but you do not tell your own. Why not?"

When she said this, Grandfather took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his face deeply thoughtful as he looked at her. He said, "Because no one's ever asked." 

"Then I'm asking," said San. "What is your story, Grandfather?"

The old man walked a short distance away from her, to the shade cast by a house, and sat down and closed his eyes. He patted the grass beside him, so San did as asked and sat beside him, folding her long legs up until she could hug her knees to her chest and rest her chin upon them. She watched Grandfather's profile, and was nearly surprised when he began to speak:

"When I was young, I came to this village seeking something. I did not find it; instead, I found something else much greater. It was only for a short time, but I was happier than I had ever been--even now, I don't regret that time. However ..." And here Grandfather paused to touch his arm, wrapping his fingers around it, as if remembering some old past hurt. "I was very young, though I felt very old. I had taken on a number of responsibilities that I did not quite understand, and though I did my best, it was not always enough.

"Do you know why Tatara-Ba sends away for the wood to power our fires, though we sit surrounded by a forest?" he asked, and when San shook her head, he opened his eyes and went on: "It is because there is a curse that strikes down any who would bring iron into the forests that surround us, unless they travel along the specific caravan path. Those who don't listen to the warnings and attempt to harm a single tree find themselves first sickened, and then they waste away. No medicines from the Capitol have any effect. Even now, those who stray off the path while transporting our wares are considered unclean."

San looked at her feet, bare in the grass. She pulled a blade free; she knew well of the Unclean Ones--they lived in their own segregated area of the village, always with a haunted look of fear in their eyes. The people of Tatara-Ba treated them worse than lepers, though they had no marks of illness on their bodies. They were sent out with each export caravan and tended to return with less each time.

"The curse is the result of a terrible grudge," Grandfather sighed. "Not the sort that created the tatarigami of old--it was an entirely new thing at the time. I don't think anything else like it has ever existed in the world before--and probably nothing ever will be like it again. The old gods are moving on; there are fewer left who would even take notice of a human, let alone invest the time and energy that would create someone who could do such a thing. It's a living thing too, that curse--it grows and changes as Tatara-Ba does, as well as the world beyond the forest. It may outlast the entire world, until every last human is gone." He rubbed his arm again, his long square fingers working the muscle under his sleeve.

"What created it?" San asked softly.

"Love," Grandfather said. He closed his eyes again and squeezed his arm so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Love?"

"Not all curses are born from hatred," said Grandfather. "In fact, the strongest ones are not--hate is something that destroys. It never changes. Love, however ..."

"Why does a path exist, then?" San asked. "If this curse affects all iron, then Tatara-Ba should have been choked off and died long ago. Yet we're still able to travel through the forest and to the outside world, and our village flourishes, even when people leave every year to make their fortunes elsewhere. We're thriving, even if there are Unclean Ones in our village."

"Because," said Grandfather, "love is the only thing that counters love. After a thousand years, love is still the only cure." He bowed his head low, so that San could see none of his face, only the snowy white top of his head. "Or so it seems. The winters are growing longer and colder; maybe she's finally growing tired. She fought longer and harder than anyone, for all the good that it did her. She was brave and strong and beautiful, and I would have wished her a better end."

San twirled her plucked blade of grass between thumb and index finger. After long minutes, when Grandfather said nothing else, she said, "Is that what you're waiting for, then? For her to come out of the forest to meet you?"

Rather than deny it, he simply said, "I went to see her once. Then the people of the village brought fire and axes, though I did my best to stop them, and there were no gods to protect the forest, except for her. Since then, she's refused to leave it--and her presence is the only thing that keeps the curse going. Until that day ..."

"I hope you see her again," San said. Her voice was quiet.

The hero Ashitaka looked at her with tired dark eyes, and said, "I hope I do as well."

_"Deep within the haunted forest there is an island with the remains of a village--where once there stood proud tall buildings and a great iron-smelting plant, there is nothing but broken crumbling walls and overgrown weeds everywhere. However, it is said that a single house still stands intact, untouched by time. If you can win safe passage through the woods, through blind luck and chance, an old man will greet you there; he will give you food and shelter for the night, and a message to carry with you, as he points you on the one safe path outside of the forest._

_'Should you meet someone on the road, please say to her, "I am still waiting." That is all.'_

_To this day, those who have met the old man and survived the forest say they have met no one. Still the old man waits, and one day, maybe, his waiting will come to an end."_


End file.
